The night was only lit by the red light from the nearby Dungeon's Manashield. The night with its vast amounts of shadows, could only bolster Lorad's powers. However, in front of him was a powerful brazier, that of Tom's skull mask.

The Legendary ornament was his heritage. He had received it directly from his father, a Shaman born and raised in the Infinite Forest, and when he was still alive, Lorad's dearest friend.

It helped him directly counter Lorad's mastery over the Shadow element. Without it, he would have had a chance at neutralizing him. Or maybe not, yet at the same time, they were unable to deal a killing blow on each other.

Lorad was on the verge of Tier 7, while Tom was on that of Tier 5, and he had yet to show even the most remote sign of a Signature Skill. At the same time, Lorad's was in plain view. It was his overflowing Aura of Shadows. If he didn't have to control himself in fear of hurting the bystanders, he would be able to utilize the full extension of the shadows covering the land and direct them like a conductor. But he couldn't do that, and yet even then, he doubted it would be enough to make a stop to Tom's uncanny techniques.

Though from druid to Priest of Lore. His mastery over Shaman magic was… mind-blowing.

He had no idea how in just eight years, the man had gone so far as to be able to cover the abyss that two Tiers differences played. There could only be one explanation.

He really has become a Herald. He must have reverted his Skill and picked up all Basic Skills. Otherwise, his sheer absurd amount of Attributes wouldn't be possible. But… how?

However, it was not the time for theory-crafting.

Clast had failed, the Dragon was still free to act, and the Giantess was still in no conditions too-

Suddenly, Lorad smiled.

Oh, this changes things.

"Okay, Tom. It's been fun. But we need to end things here," Lorad said, "I'm sorry."

Tom smiled, "Oh, I get it. You think just because it's two on one now, you think you can end me?" Tom straightened and waved his finger at him, in a 'no-no-no' motion. "Jiao is not gonna be enough to deal with me. You shall regret it."

Lorad was taken aback. Did he notice already? Jiao just arrived and was waiting for a signal from Lorad to engage, but Tom had already noticed, maybe even before him.

Incredible…

"Well, that wasn't the plan anyway. You are dangerous, Tom, but you are not the main objective here," Lorad said. And at that moment, Tom flinched, realizing what was about to happen.

Lorad ran away, his bear disengaging from Tom's summons and fusing back with him. Simultaneously, an enormous tiger took its place, jumping over the Seraphim, taking him by the throat.

Tom made to follow Lorad, but Jiao manifested herself with her incredible speed. Hitting him square in the back.

"Hello, Liu. How are you doing these days?" Lorad heard him saying. But he received no responses from the woman. If there was someone who should have been mad at him, it was Jiao more than Lorad himself. After all, with the event happening eight years before, Jiao's husband had died because of Tom. But it wasn't time to think about that. He had a Dragon to take out.

When he arrived at the place, with many surprises from Lorad, the Dragon was already being bashed over and over again by the Giant people's Champions.

And if that wasn't all, he could feel many living shadows coming fast in the distance. Help was arriving.

At last.

Lorad felt for Nadiya and her mental link to update her on his incoming assault on the Dragon. She gave her okay right away.

Lorad started charging his physical assault, bolstering his might by sucking in his body the whole might of all the shadows in the land. It was a once a day attack, but it would undoubtedly kill the Dragon if taken by surprise. It was already sustaining the Diamond Champion assault and the mighty shots from that Larry. His Signature Skill was a revelation, to be sure.

Once the shadows made him a compressed ball of flaming darkness, Lorad shot toward the unsuspecting Dragons with the might of a meteor. But just as he did, he felt the ripple in space from a powerful Space Magic-user, and it manifested right in front of him.

Lorad slammed against a barrier so powerful that it put to shame the Mana Shield of any Dungeon he had ever burst through.

His mightiest barging attack didn't even make it waver. And as the shadows dispersed, a black man in a black cassock, with an armored pellegrina, zucchetto, and a pair of green sunglasses stood in front of him, protected by the mighty transparent barrier which turned once again invisible as Lorad backed away.

Lorad couldn't not recognize the man.

"Archbishop Zane. Why am I not surprised to see you here?" He said.

"Lorad," the Archbishop, a tall black man with short hair and sunglasses, clearly of African origins, nodded to him. "Are we finished here?" He said out of the blue.

Lorad couldn't help but shake his head.

"You think you are leaving this place without us taking down that Dragon? That is not gonna happen, Zane, you know it. You just went too far. There will be retribution from the Giants."

Zane remained silent.

"Of course, that's exactly what you wanted. So why not let me finish my job? Your disciple is not exactly the best match against Jiao. You might retrieve his pieces shortly," Lorad continued.

Zane smirked, "Are you sure the opposite won't happen?"

"You should have known Zane, where I go, she follows, and her abilities have been shaped to compensate for my lack-"

A scream broke the silence, a female scream. Lorad knew that voice, and detaching his eyes from the now smiling man, he turned toward the battle he had left behind.

Jiao was kneeling on the ground.

She had only one arm, and the other was being held behind her back by a massive fiery demon with a face exactly like Tom's skull mask. The thing, whatever it was, him or a summon, had placed his massive foot on the back of the woman, then with an explosive chop, it removed her other arm.

Lorad was taken aback. He felt where that was going. He had to stop him. He rushed at them, but he smashed against the barrier.

A cubic barrier had been placed around him. Lorad turned toward the Archbishop. The man had his fists joined, knuckles against knuckles in a focused pose.

"Zane! Let me go! Do you know what you are about to do? Have you got any idea of what this means!?" Lorad shouted.

"You thought you were immune? Lorad? You thought we could only hit you at Yggdrasil?" Zane shrugged. "It's basic tactic, Lorad. You should have expected it. You have grown lax after your wife died. The world turns, and we follow. We don't go against it. That is why we prosper, and you become fewer and fewer by the year. Now sit tight and enjoy the show because this is the end of the game."

"Zane!" Lorad shouted, but he was drawn by the scream. The Champion turned around, looking at the events as they unfolded. His hands hit the barrier desperately with all the strength he could muster. It was meaningless. The barrier was indestructible.

He could clearly see and only watch as Jiao's neck started stretching, her skin slowly ripping apart, strand after strand. He stopped hitting the barrier then, placing his hands against it, as if in prayer, a useless effort to implore N'arr's help.

It was meaningless. And when her head was ripped from her body and thrown aside, her beautiful long hair fluttering in the wind until it disappeared in the distance, Lorad's hands fell to the side, and with them his creed.

The fiery demon shrank in size until it took the form of a regular person and split into two: Tom and his Succubus.

Red Tom looked at him, and removing his helmet; he gave Lorad a malicious smile. Mimicking with his mouth a few words. With a shrug, he silently said, "I told you, you'd regret it."

But Lorad could not answer. There, in that cage made of Space magic, kneeled a defeated man. A man completely and utterly shattered. Once more.

***

 

Varcivald was supporting Larry from the back. The Giant had been a massive boon. Without his peculiar abilities, they would never have managed to get out of this situation. The Giant had killed eleven dragons. Yes, with heavy support from his companions and the city of Kanceldom. But he had been the catalyst.

Now, as they battled the head Dragon, Larry acted as support for the Diamond Champion. Distracting the Dragon with enhanced but not deadly shots of Dragon Hunt, Larry's Signature Skill.

The battle was doing fine. The Dragon, already weakened by his battle against the Fairy prince, had not recovered and was being clearly pushed back. All seemed to go well. And yet, Varcivald felt it right away when the presence appeared.

It was a Tier 7, another one.

This has turned into war. I can feel it in my throbbing ears...

"Larry!" He said, "We need to take that Dragon down before the worse comes to wear!"

Without turning, Larry nodded and stopped shooting. "Then let me Channel the shot that will take it down. But first, I need to find a proper spot." Without saying anything else, Larry shuffled away.

Varcivald took his chance to communicate with Nadiya, the promising Medium member of Graskielle's party, of the change in settings.

Then he, with a couple of giants behind him, Marcle and Carla, ran toward the fainted Clast and Sigmund.

"You are Anastasia, right? Help me get your father out of here. This place is about to become a lot more dangerous."

Still, a little confused, Nastia nodded. "Zeroed on Life…" she said.

She's clearly in shock. Varcivald thought, "Alright, but if I recall correctly, he has joined the Fairies' ranking if it still exists. Which gives us time to revive him, right? Tell me, how many minutes does someone who has joined the ranking have before he dies for Life corruption?"

"What? Are- are you giving me a school test? Right now? Who… Who are you?" She asked.

Good, she's recovering her smug character. She should be fine, for now. Varcivald smiled. "Well, if you can't answer that, then you don't have what it takes to help us get them out of here," continued Varcivald, but they were already taking Sigmund and Clast back to safety, far away from the ongoing battle.

Nastia tsked, taking one of his father's arms and placing it around her shoulders to help carry him, though as useless as it was, it helped her more than him. At the same time, though, she answered, "One second for each point of Life if under the top hundred. One minute if part of the top hundred."

"Well, I guess we've got time. Where did your father stand in the ranking, again?" He asked, smug himself.

"Third!" she answered with pride. Everybody knew that his father, though not the Champion of the Fairy, of the few Fairies, left alive, was one of the best among them.

"Nice memory, Anastasia, you would shine in my classes," he retorted as they reached the hiding place of the healers, the Giant's bank, the most fortified of the building. The people there were already preparing to heal the two wounded persons.

"You are trying to mock me, are you not!?" she asked, but before Varcivald said something, she continued, "Thank you, Elf…" There was a tear-jerking smile on her face, "I'm Anastasia, Nastia for my friends. What should I call you?"

Varcivald smiled too, “Varcivald, Vald is enough.”

Looking at her hand, waiting for him to shake, Varcivald looked straight at the eyes of the young woman in front of him. They were… absurdly beautiful. And as he shook her hand, something that had not happened to him for almost a century manifested itself. His heart accelerated, and a vague heat reached his face.

Whether it was what the elder Giantess had told him or the adrenalin coming from the battle or out of pure coincidence, Vald didn't know. What he did know, though, was that he started allowing himself to have desire over somebody else. He thought he had to forgo those forever, but now he wasn't so sure anymore. Could he let himself really try and find love?

Almost simultaneously with his rediscovery of himself, all those around him, including himself, felt the shouts coming from afar. There were many of them.

They were the shouts of the booming voices of Giants. As it seemed, the reinforcements had finally come.

Varcivald shot up, speed climbing the bank walls, and quickly reached the building's highest point. He saw them.

Hundreds upon hundreds of Giants, some were riding their umbrellas, some carried by domesticated wyverns, some utterly flying. They all came to their rescue.

Vald turned to the other side. He felt the Tier 7, which had just appeared, disappear once more. The remaining Dragon, Phellingetorim, disengaged from its fight, soaring up as fast as he could. But then came a voice, a voice closer, so close that he did not understand how he had managed not to notice the presence of the speaker.

On top of the tallest tower, more like a peak than an actual building, sprouting up from the bank's ceiling, sat a Giant. It was Larry. In his hands, an umbrella-rifle, bubbling with power. His emotionless voice said, "You are not going anywhere."

As the rifle shot the massive amount of concentrated power, it finally exploded, and the spire of the bank exploded for the recoil.

The shot traveled fast and far, impacting the retreating Dragon at speed impossible to evade. It drove itself inside the lower monster's ribs. The terror of the sky already weakened a lot, stopped moving his wings, and started falling, toward Kanceldom once more. There were a certain grace and fluidity he retained even in that state, a beauty, peculiar only to flying Dragons. And although they were the smallest among the True Dragons, they were by far the most gracious of them.

"He's dead, isn't he?" Asked Varcivald, looking at its falling form.

"Yes." Came Larry's voice. He was dusting himself, getting out from the debris, "Yes, he is."

Varcivald could definitely identify the look of Larry interacting with his Anchor page. He chuckled at it; though every survivor had pretty much gained at least something from the battle, Larry had seen by far a huge improvement.

The elf had seen him break the barrier through Tier 5, had felt him add another of his Skill to his already monstrous Signature Skill, and now he had hit another threshold. Larry had undoubtedly been one of those, if not the one gaining the most out of this. At least life wasn't entirely wasted, and anyway, he was happy that a member of Marcle's family had had the chance. He had known only three members of the Vairstrazz, and he already felt that they were special, extraordinary among the Giant's kind. He knew he would see wonders from them.

"What about the Starryskies? Are you going to take your revenge on them? I heard it from your brother," Varcivald said.

"And kill that look on my son's face? He's already forgiven them the moment he laid eyes upon her," answered Larry. "Besides, if there really was someone I'd take my revenge upon, that would be the Seer of Carnage. The Fairy Prince, though a Legend himself, he's just a puppet of hers."

Varcivald looked at the two, Sigmund and Nastia. Two future pillars of Yggdrasil's people and Kanceldom, if not the entire race of Giants, If the kid learns to really act upon that bravery of his. Varcivald saw potential in him, and who better than him to guide him. But would he leave his kids to follow the Vairstrazz kid's growth? He doubted it.

There will be a time, not now, maybe. But it will come.

In the meanwhile, the remaining Priests started escaping. They used space magic devices to disappear, only a few of them didn't make it in time or had their devices fail on them, and they were those that fell at the hands of the citizens of Kanceldom and their reinforcements.

In a matter of minutes, the defenders had retaken the city, or what was left of it.

Soon after, during the night, Varcivald came to know Marcle's beloved. She indeed was as beautiful as he had described, and she was surprisingly close relative to their Champion.

She was an exquisite beauty, and it surprised no one when she and Marcle got married the very next day, of course, no one but the elf, which wasn't knowledgeable about the Giants' customs.

There had been many losses over the Giants' side and the dwellers of Kanceldom. The city was in shambles. The damage could be counted in hundreds of millions of Mana. Rebuilding would take place only after the period of mourning.

So, as it seemed, Giants fought mourning by drinking booze, getting married, and committing to prolonged periods of festivities.

From an outsider's point of view, it might have been preposterous, but for the Giants who were in constant fear and attacks from the Dragons, it had become the norm. Their only options would have been a constant period of mourning, far less pleasant if seen under that light.

A couple of surprising things happened that day as well.

Graskielle presented Dustille to a still-recovering Clast and explained to him about her interrupted seering training. Enough to say, Clast 'took her under his wing' and promised to study under the best Seer in the land. The Seer of Carnage. It was thus decided that she and Marcle would leave for Yggdrasil.

Not even doing it on purpose, Clast's daughter had decided to remain in Kanceldom. With her leaving, the party composed of Greta, Sato, Fred, and Prisha had been effectively left without a leader and thus returned immediately to the Cradle.

Sigmund disbanded his party, leaving Carla alone with great regret. A regret short-lived since Carla had nevertheless been scouted by Graskielle.

So with an exchange of such relevant people to two of the biggest houses of both The Cradle and Kanceldom, an unwritten pact had been sealed.

Unsurprisingly, Larry had been erected as the defender of Kanceldom, and refusing the offer of joining Graskielle's party, he practically challenged her on her position, but there was a long road ahead of him. There were many Giants on the list to challenge the Champion.

Varcivald, now a friend with the Vairstrazz, came to know that Larry had just reached thirty-eighth place in the Valhalla ranking and would soon join with his son and participate in the annual contest to obtain the title of Champion. With all the benefits and responsibilities it included.

Lorad instead, the Champion of N'arr, had disappeared the night of the attack. Bringing with him the corpse of Jiao Liu. When witnesses recounted the way in which one of N'arr's best had died at the hands of what was barely a Tier 4 Priest of Lore, the same which had kept Lorad busy for all that time, Varcivald couldn't believe his pointy ears.

The Priest, though of a serious threat for most of the people of Alter, even if not for the might of the Elves, had just been acting like the capitalists they were. But what they had done now was antagonizing two great forces. The Druids and Giants were not only unique to Kanceldom or The Cradle. The Expanse had many sky-islands, on which Giants spanned far and wide, and The Den, though not as big as The Expanse, included the Infinite Forest, which did not house only Shamans, but the Druids of the Forest as well.

The Priests of Lore had started moving the chessboard pieces in dangerous ways, and those movements could mean only one thing…

Another massive War is brewing.